


phantom pains

by thesorrowoflizards



Series: forged in fire [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Asmodeous's A+ Parenting, Bittersweet, Episode: s03e10 Erchomai, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Magnus-centric, Missing Scene(s), catarina loves him but she's rlly stressed out rn, magnus deals with that, magnus trades away his magic, prequel to "the houses of our fathers"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-24 01:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14945282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesorrowoflizards/pseuds/thesorrowoflizards
Summary: magnus trades his magic away and wonders if this is all worth it.





	phantom pains

**Author's Note:**

> takes place before "the houses of our fathers" as well as during and after the midseason finale episode

 

 

“there must be something else i can give you,” magnus said, standing too stiffly.

“actually, my son,” asmodeous said, smirking. “…there is.”

ominous. magnus had no doubt whatever asmodeous was going to say was going to be bad.

he braced himself for the worst.

“your power,” asmodeous said, cat eyes gleaming hungrily.

the breath left magnus’s lungs. “what?” he whispered.

“your magic… immortality and all.”

“you would leave me mundane?” magnus asked, shocked.

he felt gutted. of all things, somehow, he had not expected that.

“mm… not exactly,” asmodeous said. “defenseless, sure. but mundane? not quite. you’ve always been special, my son. even i can’t remove every speck of power from your blood. you’re my son, after all…”

he almost sounded proud. magnus kind of wanted to scream.

“…but i can take the power you wield. the magic you call to your hands, the vitality in your core that keeps you alive for so long.”

“you would rip out my magical core,” magnus said numbly. “that’s—that’s a part of me. it’d be easier to cut off my legs.”

“perhaps,” asmodeous hummed. “but this is so much more fun.”

magnus’s heartbeat stuttered.

“so… which would you rather be?” asmodeous asked. he moved about the room, dramatically flourishing a hand in a gesture that reminded magnus sickeningly of his own. “the heir to edom, powerful and respected, all of the knowledge and power in the world at your fingertips… or a useless, powerless, pitiful creature that will never belong anywhere? a freak that your friends will no doubt soon abandon?”

magnus’s gut clenched at the very thought. his blood ran cold. he wanted to deny it, but he knew saying anything out loud would only prove as weakness to his father.

“…either way, i lose who i am.” he said slowly.

asmodeous smirked. “one way you become better,” he said. “the other you become lesser. choose wisely.”

“i would rather die than become your puppet,” magnus said sharply.

“of course you would,” asmodeous laughed. “and yet, you dance so prettily, my boy. you dance to my tune.”

magnus resisted the urge to straighten his spine and clench his fists. “i’ll take your deal,” he said stiffly. “my… my magical core, and in return, you give me the power to save jace.”

he had to. he had to do this.

he couldn’t let alec lose a piece of himself. couldn’t let alec kill a piece of himself.

(he ignored the little voice saying so instead you kill a piece of yourself? stupidly, foolishily selfless as always. it sounded too much like his father.)

“very well,” asmodeous said. “you know, for a son of mine, you are remarkably foolish.”

“not foolish,” magnus said quietly. “perhaps loyal to a fault.”

asmodeous laughed. “that you are,” he said. “if only you were loyal to the right people.”

“just do it,” magnus said, voice hard and cold. “get it over with.”

his hands were trembling. he wanted to conjure a flower, or a shower of sparks, to relish it one last time before—before it was gone.

but he was running out of time. jace was running out of time, and therefore so was alec.

(oh god he was going to lose his magic, his magic, the warmth in his veins and the thrumming in his heart and the power in his hands, the only thing that had protected him and stood by him all those years, the only thing that had been between him and death his whole life)

(who would he be with magic? magnus bane was magic, magnus bane was all magic, and without it what would he become? a freakish, cat-eyed mundane? a helpless old man with a young face—although not forever—holed up in a loft full of books, wasting away? what would he become? who would he become?)

(he felt like he could stop breathing, like he was spiraling down and drowning but he couldn’t, not here and not now, not in front of asmodeous)

“mm… very well,” asmodeous said, and then suddenly he was close, invading magnus’s personal space, and then there was a burning, white-hot hand on the side of his neck and magnus screamed—

his magic burned, thrashing and screaming in his veins, there was a hideously bright light and then his eyes closed—

the grip got tighter, he couldn’t breathe, and there was a roaring in his ears, his heart felt ice cold and molten hot all at once, tears were streaming down his face, there were a million insects crawling through him, his whole body was shaking—

everything burned, his magic was cold and hot and dry and stabbing and it felt like his heart was being ripped out, like his ribcage was being pried open one rib at a time, like his blood was turning to molten iron and his bones were aching and his skin was crawling and slipping from his muscles and crawling away—

and then as abruptly as it started, it was over, and the blindingly hot and tight grip on his neck was gone and he was thrown roughly to the sandy floor.

he coughed roughly, lungs burning, whole body wracked with spasms. he pulled himself slightly off the ground the best he could, arms shaking from the strain.

he instinctively reached for his magic only to feel a startling emptiness, a deep and yawning void clawing open his chest.

but it wasn’t just his chest, he could feel the void in every fiber of his being, feel the lack, the missing.

he felt torn open. the loss was like a wound, gaping, bleeding, raw and ripped at the edges.

he was breathless and empty and trembling and—

his—his magic was gone.

it was gone.

he barely bit back a ragged sob bursting from his throat.

(he’d known, he’d known it would be gone but god it hurt so much it hurt it hurt)

(it was gone his magic was gone how could he live now how would he live)

(he was going to be alone now wasn’t he alone and abandoned what if his father was right)

he managed to push himself to his feet, calming the tremors in his hands enough to put on a steely, calm mask.

“y…your end of the bargain,” he said, unable to hold back the slight stumble.

asmodeous smirked. “of course,” he said, and he grabbed magnus again (magnus had to hold back a flinch) and closed his eyes for a moment.

magnus gasped, feeling the warmth of magic filling the void in him.

but it was too small, and foreign. it wasn’t his.

it was a small flame, licking at the insides of his ribcage, too hot and horrible and wrong.

it wasn’t his.

it was wrong wrong wrong but it was an awful, awesome feeling to have magic back in his veins again after that horrible lack of it.

it was as if he’d been thrown into cold water, submerged and drowning, and then been pulled free… only to be scorched by flames and heat.

but he knew not to get used to it. it wouldn’t be long.

“i think you’ve overstayed your welcome, magnus,” asmodeous said. “unless you’re going to stay…?”

“no,” magnus said.

asmodeous sighed dramatically. “very well, then,” he said, and he waved his hand.

red sparks flew and the air twisted behind him and then he was enveloped, the hot fire swirling around him and then—he was in an alleyway.

his feet were on the solid ground of earth again, he tried not to gasp in pain.

the thin, hot air of edom was gone. the red, dusty sky and heat was gone.

but the painful emptiness in his chest remained. only the small, hot flame licking at his ribs remained.

there was a void yawning in his ribcage, aching and clenching tight around his heart, squeezing like hot barbed wire.

it was gone.

part of him, something intrinsically part of him, was gone. ripped away, taken, stolen—no, not stolen. he’d given it up.

for alec.

he wondered if alec would ever have done the same thing for him—

oh, sure, alec loved him, but would he have given up everything for him?

would he have forgiven magnus if one of his family had died because of magnus’s friends, like ragnor had because of alec’s?

would he have forgiven magnus if he was partially responsible for losing his title of head of the institute along with much of the respect of his people?

would he have forgiven magnus if he’d lied to alec about something huge, something that could take away everything he loved?

would he have given up everything for magnus—his runes, his shadowhunting, even his family, all to save someone magnus cared about?

how much more would magnus have to sacrifice? would alec have ever done the same?

a part of him said yes, of course—alec loves me. he does. he loves me as much as i love him.

another part of him whispered he’s a shadowhunter, he’s like all the others...

and yet another sighed, why should he have to? he loves me, and that’s enough.

the emptiness inside him gnawed away at his insides.

(it wasn’t just his chest—that was where his magical core had been, true. but his magic had been part of him, woven through every cell, in his skin and blood and bones. every particle of magnus ached with an emptiness, every inch of him missing something.)

but he’d saved jace.

and alec was happy.

and that would have to be enough.

he hears a scuffle. fighting. he moves forward and after that everything was a blur.

expelling the last of the magic to stop jace, sever lillith’s influence.

seeing alec, bleeding and pale.

jace running off to save clary, thoughtless and reckless as always.

wanting to heal him, hands desperately hovering above his wounds, but helpless to do anything but watch.

calling catarina, asking for her help, barely able to put to words what was wrong.

everything crashing down on him.

his magic was gone, alec was dying, and nothing seemed like it would ever be okay again.

looking down at alec, tears streaming down his face, suppressing sobs as he waited.

catarina was there in minutes, clearly concerned, wondering why he wasn’t using magic to stop the bleeding and he could barely choke out the words to tell her.

alec was taken away from him, no doubt whisked to the institute’s infirmary. people were talking, catarina was asking him if he was okay.

he was exhausted and empty and everything of worth in him had been squeezed out like he was a flattened tube of toothpaste.

he was cold. so cold.

everything around him was blurring, darkening, fuzzy spots obscuring his vision.

and then it all went black.

 

* * *

 

 

magnus was sitting on his couch. he felt numb and aching at the same time.

alec was still in the infirmary, recovering. the loft was silent and still. he was alone.

it was gone.

his magic was gone. his immortality was gone. his life was gone.

he buried his face in his shaking hands.

fuck. fuck.

there was the familiar sound of a portal opening behind him. he didn’t look up or move a muscle, remaining hunched over on the couch.

someone sat next to him. he could feel their weight on the cushions.

he knew who it was before he looked up.

“oh, magnus,” catarina said softly. “what have you done?”

magnus’s hands gripped his biceps, arms crossed defensively. “what i had to.”

“what you had to?” she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. “or what your shadowhunter wanted you to do?”

“it wasn’t just for alec,” magnus said quietly, face unreadable. “defeating the owl was necessary.”

“if you’d waited, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

“jace could have died, and part of alec with him,” magnus said.

“but you didn’t do it just for alec… right?”

“no,” magnus insisted. “i just—i was trying to do what i thought was right.”

“you always have,” catarina said. “but magnus, this is crazy. you’re—you’re mortal, aren’t you?”

magnus bit his lip, and after a moment, nodded slowly.

catarina was tense. “you… you gave up everything for this shadowhunter.”

magnus didn’t say anything.

“your job, your magic, your life. when will it end? when will he stop taking from you?”

“he’s not taking,” magnus said hotly. “it’s not like that. he doesn’t—he doesn’t ask. he’s loving and kind and good. he would never want me to suffer, he would never take what wasn’t freely offered.”

“you freely offer too much,” catarina said, sharp and cool. “you’re giving him too much. he’s not giving back the same.”

“he would,” magnus said weakly. “he would.”

“but he hasn’t. he’s a shadowhunter and he’s dangerous. he’s brought you nothing but pain—”

“he loves me,” magnus protested. “he made me feel alive after almost a century of being stagnant. he’s the first person other than you and—and ragnor that i’ve trusted since camille. and he—he’s trying. it’s not all misery. he—he makes me happy. he loves me, and i love him.”

catarina stood. “i love you,” she said. “you are my best friend. and i hate that you’re tearing yourself apart for a shadowhunter.”

“not for a shadowhunter,” he said. “for someone i love.”

“so you admit you’re tearing yourself apart?”

“i—” magnus didn’t know what to say.

“that’s what i thought,” catarina said. “i love you, magnus, and i’ll be there for you if you need me. but right now, apparently all you need is your shadowhunter.”

“his name is alec,” magnus said. “and cat, i—that’s not what i meant. you know i love you. you’re my best friend.”

“and you didn’t think how you sacrificing everything would affect me?” she asked, voice cracking slightly with emotion. “i already lost ragnor, magnus. i—i don’t want to lose you, too. and i thought i wouldn’t have to. but now… now i’m going to have to watch you wither away like i’ve watched so many others.”

her voice was pained and horribly sad. magnus understood—if catarina had become mortal without telling him, he would have been devastated, too.

“catarina,” he said helplessly.

“i—i need some time,” she said. “to deal with this. i’m sorry.”

she wanted to be here for her friend, but it was so hard with everything that was happening. ragnor was still gone, her job was busier every day, and now—magnus, one of the few constants in her life, was gone. he was going to die.

she needed time to figure this out. magnus had his alexander, had raphael, if he really needed it, and dot and luke and a small support system. she couldn’t guarantee he’d go to them but he’d at least go to alec.

and she had many problems with the shadowhunter, but even she couldn’t deny he loved magnus.

“no,” magnus said quickly, voice soft. “i understand. catarina, thank you.”

“you’re thanking me for leaving?”

“no. for everything,” he said. “you’re… you’re a really good friend. better than i deserve, sometimes. i mean it. take all the time you need, okay? take care of yourself.”

catarina sighed. “not better than you deserve,” she said. “but thank you. i’ll be back, okay?”

“i know,” he said softly.

( _just don’t come back too late because we don’t have all the time in the world anymore_ is what he thinks but doesn’t say)

she leaves and he feels more alone than ever before but he knows she needs time, she deserves time—she’d always put up with so much of his shit, and he’s supposed this was the last straw… at least for a while.

magnus sat back, waving a hand to summon a drink—only to falter, the emptiness in his chest burning all the colder.

he got up, not bothering to be graceful as he practically stumbled over to his liquor cabinet.

he pulled out a bottle of whiskey, going to get a glass.

soon he was back on the couch, drink in hand.

he swirled it about, staring down into the brown liquid, at the clear ice distorting the surface.

he was alone, just as asmodeous had said.

(he knew that wasn’t fair—catarina just needed time and ragnor was dead and alec was dying but he felt so alone and nobody seemed to be coming)

he took a long pull of his drink.

 

* * *

 

 

soon enough alec was okay again.

they talked. alec was kind—he comforted him, held him, and for the first time in a long time magnus cried.

catarina would come back. he'd--he'd figure out how to deal with everything else.

alec would be there. cat would be there. 

everything was going to be okay.

(it had to be.)

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> in case you hadn't guessed, those last few sentences are where "the houses of our fathers" happens lol
> 
> okay look i feel like maybe i've messed up catarina but the more i think about it the more i think she must be a little fucked up over this?? don't worry i'm gonna fix it but like. still. plus, angst.


End file.
